


Getting Help

by rosewrappedstaff



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Debatable LietPol, Gen, M/M, Melancholy, Recovery, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewrappedstaff/pseuds/rosewrappedstaff
Summary: "I don't know what to do," he repeated. "Besides go home."Sometimes we all need help, and sometimes that means admitting we were wrong.
Relationships: Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia)
Kudos: 13





	Getting Help

**Author's Note:**

> Currently undergoing a rewrite

Lithuania stared out his window with empty eyes and a frown that never seemed to fully leave. He pushed a button through its loop and smoothed his shirt down. He was going home soon, home to the city that still rang of the things he tried so hard to forget. He wanted to think that none of it mattered anymore, that he could go back to the way it had been all those centuries ago. But that wasn't true. Everything still stung to think about, just a little. 

He turned away from the window and started towards the kitchen. He needed to eat, regardless of how little his stomach felt empty. He'd probably just have cereal again. Cereal was low-effort. Low-effort was what he needed today. He stopped suddenly, one hand still on the doorframe. A head of straight, blond hair was bowed over the kitchen table. Lithuania felt a deep cold seep into his bones. Not today, not right now. He couldn't deal with him right now. All he wanted was a bowl of cereal. He took a hesitant step back, accompanied by the soft clack of his shoe on the wooden floor. Poland looked up. Damn it.

"Liet? It's, like, really early. Are you feeling okay?"

Lithuania didn't reply. He didn't know how to. No, but not any worse than usual. His eyes landed on the coffee maker. He could see his reflection in it, better than he could in the old, cracked window upstairs. His eyes were weighed down by dark circles and bags. He could see the centuries in exhaustion even though he never looked over twenty. Scabs on his lower lip from where he always forgot he was biting it. He looked like a mess. 

"Liet? Are you okay?" Poland had stood up. 

Lithuania looked over to the little potted plant on the windowsill. It was green, cheery among the white and grey. A pretty little spot of happiness among a sea of monotony. It's pretty. He liked the plant.

"Liet!" 

Poland's shout roused Lithuania. The shorter man was gripping him by the shoulders, green eyes shining with worry and fear. Lithuania closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look into Poland's. He couldn't bring himself to speak, to explain himself or apologize or any of the hundred other things he might want to do at that moment. He slowly took one of Poland's hands into his own. 

"Oh, it's, like, totally a bad day, isn't it?" Poland breathed. He squeezed Lithuania's hand gently. "It's okay, I'll totally help you out."

_No. No, please leave me alone. You're good, but I need to be alone_.

"Let's get you back to bed. It's still, like, pretty much night."

Lithuania stepped back and shook his head. It was late enough to be awake. He brushed past Poland and started making himself a bowl of cereal. The plant smiled at him, added a little bit more optimism into his head. The calm green stood out, providing a focal point for his tired eyes. It always seemed to be green that stood out. The escape to a forest of vibrant emerald hues, the neat familiarity of his hunter green uniform, the fern on Poland's windowsill, or the carapace of a beetle crawling along the floor, something green was always there to provide an anchor.

"Hey." Poland's voice dragged him back into the present. "The milk's going to spoil."

Lithuania looked down at the now-mushy cereal and dumped the bowl down the sink. He wasn't hungry anyway. The milk carton went back into the fridge before he sat down with Poland.

"Why don't you, like, tell me about what's bothering you? It'll be totally therapeutic."

He shook his head. 

"I think it would be really helpful."

"Poland…"

"I mean… you don't have to talk _right now_. It's okay."

Lithuania started. “No, I—”

“Oh, no, it’s okay! You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

Lithuania looked up in shock. Poland was forceful in an entirely different way to what he was used to. He didn’t speak in subtones and implications, he said what he meant and worried about how it would sound later. There was no threat in a suggestion, no anger in a joke. Just the surface level.

"Thank you," Lithuania whispered. 

Poland waved it off. "Do you wanna, like, go somewhere later? We could go shopping or just out for a walk or—or we could just, like, sit on the porch. But, Liet, you said going home in a few days, and I totally don't think you're ready. You're still kind of a hot mess, no offence. I wanna, like, make sure you're gonna be okay on your own." 

Silence fell heavily around them. Poland shifted and pressed his lips together. Lithuania picked at his fingers. That had hurt a little, but Poland was right. He wasn't ready. "I just don't know what else to do," he mumbled.

"Huh? Did you say something?"

"I don't know what to do," he repeated. "Besides go home. I feel terrible, making you take care of me when I can't even help you. You're in a bad place too, yet you're helping me."

"Oh, you totally don't have to go home! I don't mind taking care of you. If I did, I'd, like, kick you out. Or something. But I won't! 'Cause I'm not mad. And I'm doing fine!"

"Poland…"

"It's okay, Liet. Can I hug you? You really look like you could use a hug."

Lithuania shook his head. No hugs, not right now. Poland nodded. “That’s okay.”


End file.
